


Homecoming

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Embarrassment, Gen, au where hisoka's got a mom, hisoka abuse, meet the parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Hisoka came from somewhere, so reason would dictate that he's got a mother. Chrollo just never expected her to be like this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something since i felt bad for being slow on updates lately. shout out to my patrons!! illumiknife, intreptidecapist, and officialpeakspider, thank you so much for your support!

Chrollo stared at the cheerful lawn gnomes situated beside the front step and wondered if he’d entered some sort of alternate dimension. He’d read about those in a few books before. Dimensional rifts where people slipped through and found themselves in some parallel world where everything was the same except for a few notable shifts.

The lawn gnomes didn’t blink at him, so he did, admitting defeat to the silent contest being held. Chrollo looked back at the front door in front of him and raised a hand to knock, wondering if this mild mannered suburban dreamscape was just one of the few differences that proved this to be a completely different reality than the one he was used to.

The welcome mat that boasted “Morou Residence” made him wish dearly for it, at any rate.

He knocked against the bright blue door and shifted uneasily on the door step, listening to the shuffle inside that signaled life. The casual outfit he wore was a far from his usual style, but if this turned out to be the wrong house, he perhaps wouldn’t have the police called on him. A lock turned and Chrollo put on a charming smile, ready to run if need be.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of a tall, red headed woman, her well-worn apron tied around her motherly figure. “Hello,” she greeted, looking him up and down with something akin to interest. “Who might you be?”

Clearing his throat, he tried not to flush under the weight of what had to be Hisoka’s mother checking him out. “Hello, ma’am. Is Hisoka home?” he asked, peeking past her to take in a home filled with colorful knickknacks and family pictures. He made a promise with himself on that doorstep to steal any that had Hisoka in them. There’d be no way he could live with himself if he didn’t come out of this fever dream without least that.

Her hand, heavy with rings, came up to her mouth in surprise. “Oh, are you a friend?” she exclaimed, her golden eyes lighting up with delight. “Hisoka never brings friends home! Come in, come in,” she gestured, taking him by the arm and nearly dragging him into the house. “You simply must sit down and chat with me!”

It shouldn’t have surprised him so much that Hisoka’s mother was the physical type, because he found himself manhandled onto the nearest loveseat within a heartbeat. “You have a lovely home,” he managed to say, wondering if he sounded as out of body as he felt.

“Thank you, thank you,” she rushed, seating herself beside him until their thighs were flush together. “But please, tell me your name? How do you know my little Hisoka? Did you go to school with him?”

Finding his voice, he put on a smile. “My name is Chrollo Lucilfer,” wondering how to explain his relation to Hisoka. There was no way a mild-mannered house wife would know the extent of her son’s exploits. “I’m a…friend from work.”

She grasped onto that line of conversation like a vulture descending upon a helpless rabbit. “From work? You must tell me all about it. Hisoka never wants to talk about his life to me.” She wrinkled her nose, but a moment later her eyes went wide. “Oh my goodness, where are my manners? Would you like some tea? I have some fresh cookies too!”

“Oh, I’m alright—” he tried to say, but there was no hearing it.

“You must try my cookies, they’re Hisoka’s favorite!” she pushed, standing up before he could get in a word edgewise and making off for the kitchen, her wavy hair fluttering behind her as she went.

It was only then that he realized how stiff he was. Relaxing into the seat, he took a deep breath and tried to figure out if he were dreaming. The bright, chipper faces in the photos on the fireplace mantle stared back at him, refusing to blink until he did.

Chrollo bit his lip. Where was Hisoka then, if this really were his family home? Usually he came running if Chrollo were even in the same country as him. He didn’t have long to think on it though, because Mrs. Morou was back with a tray and teapot, intent on getting every bit of information out of him that she could.

He took the cup and saucer, letting her put sugar in his tea until it was how he liked it. “Thank you so much,” he smiled, letting the cup warm his fingers. “I can’t remember the last time I had homemade cookies.”

She set down the tray and made up her own cup, smiling at him softly. “Oh, you poor thing, I’ll let you take home as many as you’d like,” she promised. “You could always bully Hisoka into making some for you. He does know how to cook, though he pretends he doesn’t when he’s here.”

Laughing, he took a bite of the shortbread, his eyes closing in delight when it melted in his mouth. “That sounds like him!” he teased. “At work, sometimes he pretends to not know how to answer his phone so he can get out of coming to meetings.”

Mrs. Morou clicked her tongue and shook her head. “That boy is just too much. One time he didn’t want to go to school for whatever reason and he tried to make himself disappear,” she told him conspiratorially. Her brow raised and she leaned closer. “ _By magic.”_ Her laugh was contagious. “He just hid himself in his closet and left a note to make it seem like he’d just poofed away.”

He almost choked on his cookie from laughter. “I bet you have all kinds of stories,” he led, and he smiled so wide his cheeks ached when she gave him a knowing nod. The pure potential for blackmail was endless, he was beginning to realize. There’d be no way Hisoka could ever skip another meeting.

There was a good chance this was the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Mom, did you do my laundry yet, I can’t find my—”

Chrollo nearly dropped the cookie into his lap and Hisoka looked just as shocked when he rounded the hallway, his mouth falling open into an unmistakable gape.

“Hello, Hisoka,” he managed to say, drinking in the odd sight of him in a ratty sweatshirt and worn basketball shorts. Was he not wearing makeup? Why didn’t he think to bring a camera? “How have you been?”

It didn’t look like Hisoka was able to answer. His mouth closed with an audible click of his teeth and he stared at his mother in horror, shock, and something like betrayal. With his hair down and un-styled, he almost looked like a teenager. One that apparently didn’t know how to do his own laundry at that.

Mrs. Morou held no such inhibitions. “Oh, gingersnap, come here!” she cooed, patting the space on her other side. “Your friend came to visit and I couldn’t help but chat him up before you whisked him away.”

“My friend…” Hisoka mumbled, staring between his mother and Chrollo like he didn’t know which he feared more. “Why is my friend here?”

Chrollo settled his tea cup and plate on the coffee table, trying not to laugh at what was obviously going on here. Did Hisoka’s shirt say something on the front? It was so hard to tell with how faded the logo looked. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing well,” he said, smiling knowingly at him. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you around, so I thought I’d stop by. You should have told me how wonderful your mother is. I would have visited sooner if I’d known.”

His mother twittered and placed a hand on his thigh, her long red hair curling around her cheeks with her smile. “Oh, you flatterer.” She gave Hisoka another look, this one more pointed. “Hisoka, come sit with us. It’s so rude of you to hide such a kind young man from me, so I expect to hear all about the two of you.”

Hisoka looked like he was suffering from a stroke. He moved stiffly to the couch and sat beside his mother, his eyes vacant and staring. “I didn’t know he’d ever want to visit,” he said, crossing his arms to hide the sweater that Chrollo could now see boasted the name of his old high school.

Chrollo wished he’d brought a camera, or at the very least Feitan. He could only imagine how much of a kick he’d get out of this. “Nonsense,” he said, lifting his cup to sip at the warm tea. “I’m always happy to see you.”

“Sure you are— Ow!” Hisoka exclaimed, covering the back of his head. He glared at his mother, her hand still raised. “Mom, what the hell!?”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me, young man,” she chastised. “Don’t sass your guest. I’m so sorry for him,” Mrs. Morou directed at Chrollo. “He’s such an ornery one now that he thinks he’s bigger than his mom.”

Was he crying? Chrollo felt like he was on the verge of crying. How had he never done this before? “It’s alright, Mrs. Morou, I know all too well how mean your son can be,” he teased, looking straight into Hisoka’s pleading, begging eyes when he said it. “I’m just surprised he isn’t happier to see me. Usually I can’t get him to leave me alone.”

“Is that right?” She looked like she’d scented blood in the water. “Hisoka, is this your boyfr—”

“Hey mom!” Hisoka perked up, desperation coloring his every move. “I bet Chrollo would love a slice of your banana bread. Could you get him some? He loves sweets.”

She paused, her hand patting Chrollo’s thigh. “Do you really?” she asked, her eyes narrowing a little to make sure Hisoka wasn’t lying to her. “Hisoka loves my baking. Back when he was just a toddler I’d catch him stealing it when he thought I wasn’t looking-”

Chrollo wasn’t so cruel as to deny a man a last request, so he laid his hand over hers and smiled winsomely at the woman. “I would love some,” he interjected smoothly, basking in Hisoka’s audible sigh of relief. “You’re such a gracious host, Mrs. Morou.”

“Oh, you! You’re such a charmer,” she giggled, standing up with the empty plates. “Hisoka, you could learn a few things from such a nice young man.”

“I’m sure I could, mom,” Hisoka recited, his head in his hands.

Chrollo watched her leave, only dropping his smile for a grin of pure glee the second she disappeared through the archway that signaled the kitchen. “So,” he said after Hisoka didn’t bother looking up. “Gingersnap, huh?”

Hisoka groaned, sinking into the couch like he wanted to be buried in its depths. “Please, for the love of god,” he begged, glancing up from his hands just enough to make eye contact. “Why are you here? Chrollo, I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life but what on earth did I do to deserve this from you?”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic,” Chrollo laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Your mom was right, you really are too much.”

“I will pay you 100 million jenny to leave right now and never speak of this again.”

Chrollo scooted closer to him and poked at the mesh of his shorts. “And miss out on free banana bread? Not on your life.” He wondered what Hisoka’s bedroom looked like. “Hey, would your mom give me a tour if I asked? I’d love to see what kind of posters you have on your wall. I feel like I’m learning so much already.”

Before Hisoka could try for another offer, Mrs. Morou peeked her head into the room, smiling like the devil was on her shoulder and whispering in her ear. “Chrollo, I just had a thought!” she called, her mirth infectious.

“What were you thinking?” he replied, wrapping an arm around Hisoka’s waist to keep him from jumping up and doing something drastic.

“How would you like to see my little gingersnap’s baby albums?” she asked, and Chrollo could have sworn the heavens aligned to give him a glimpse of the face of God himself.

It took all of his strength to keep Hisoka seated, but he managed, feeling so very, very blessed. “I would love that, Mrs. Morou,” he said, staring into Hisoka’s eyes with every ounce of cruelty he possessed. “I’d love that very much.”

 _Please,_ Hisoka mouthed at him. _For the love of God, Chrollo, please._

“I’ll go get them! You two sit tight!”

If this were an alternate dimension, Chrollo was pretty sure he never wanted to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> ive got so many headcanons about this sort of thing so if you like this i might make it a series thing sorta like domesticity. let me know how you liked it! until next time~


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